My Possessions
by MistressArafaxdeep
Summary: He didn't know how much he'd miss her until she was gone. The Brief's family moves on after Bulma's death. Eventual GotenXBra. Time skip.
1. Chapter 1

_OH MY GOODNESS! This is... I don't even know. I should be sleeping. Or working on stuff for my online class. But instead this. No characters belong to me. Epic time skip away!_

_If nothing else… I'm an expert procrastinator._

* * *

><p>It had been about year since Bulma passed on. He hadn't been able to feel anything besides oppressive gloom since then. He didn't truly desire to train in the GR, but long years of habit made it something he did without thinking. He didn't want breakfast, so he bypassed the kitchen and headed for his Gravity Room. The one she'd worked so hard to maintain for him. It was still hard to imagine that she'd never fix a broken bot for him again, never install another update to the system. She'd never scream at him over the intercom, telling him he'd been training "quite long enough" and that it was time for dinner. His scowl deepened as he walked across the frost-covered grass, recollections of her dancing through his mind.<p>

Part of him was ashamed at his emotional reaction to the death of his mate. Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, the strongest warriors in the galaxy, should not still be mourning over the loss of his woman. But that was the problem, she had been all his. And his possessive nature made it difficult to accept that even death could take her away from him. If only her death hadn't been natural, he could go search for the Dragon Balls and wish her back to life. As it was, she was gone from the world of the living forever and the next time Vegeta would see her was when he crossed into the next world, as well. He'd died before, of course. It wasn't something he feared. But he knew, knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he wasn't ready to die and that if he did, his children would be heartbroken. Probably more so than he was now. And he couldn't do that to them. Not to Trunks, his pride. Not to Bra, his little princess.

His princess stood waiting for him. She yawned before giving her father a small smile. He nodded in acknowledgement, and the two headed in. He was glad for her company. Even though her appearance, which so resembled her mother's, served as a reminder for his grief and her skills weren't sufficient to really push him, he was happy to have her there to occupy his mind. He could critique her form, give her pointers, and think about something else other than his wife being gone and how that had left him heartbroken.

She stretched her muscles quickly as Vegeta headed for the control panel. His fingers danced across the screen, quickly setting the room to 80 times Earth's normal gravity. Sure, it was child's play for him, but his daughter hadn't been training all that long, and she was still gaining strength. He, personally, would not have minded if she decided that 80 times was sufficient, but she seemed determined to prove that she could handle just as much as her brother. Which meant she had a long way to go.

She seemed less fazed by the increased gravity. "Do you want to increase the amount?" Vegeta asked her. She shook her head.

"Later. I want to try my luck against you while not feeling like I'm really straining to stand up."

Her face was determined.

"I'll beat you soundly, child," he told her.

"I know. But I want to check my progress." He nodded his acceptance of her challenge. It _was_ a reasonably good idea. And even if he didn't think it was, there would be no way to talk her out of it. She was just as stubborn as he was. Perhaps more so, as she also had her mother's stubbornness thrown into the equation.

She took a loose, ready stance. He didn't need to. She wouldn't be able to move fast enough to pose a problem for him. When Vegeta didn't move to attack first, she moved. He didn't have to focus hard to read her movements. She was going for his back, hoping for an opening. He'd humor her a little. As he felt her ki move closer to him, he sidestepped the blast. He was only slightly surprised when she was beside him, ready to send a kick his way. He turned, easily catching her foot, and gave it a twist, sending her spinning away from him. He watched her land on her feet and glare at him. Vegeta recognized the look. It was the look of a warrior who didn't want to be bested at anything. He felt his chest expand with pride.

She really wasn't a challenge for him, and her movements seemed incredibly slow. He blocked her kicks and punches, dodging attacks with the ease that came with experience. She was panting. She was also getting angry. "Stop holding back," she said to him, angrily. He gave her a hard look. She was serious. He didn't want to hurt her, but he guessed the best way to truly prove to her that the gap between them was still astronomical was to give her an attack at full power. Besides. If he did hurt her, she'd only get stronger when she healed. He moved to her, faster than she could see if he judged by the searching look on her face, and aimed a kick at her gut. She managed to sidestep to avoid the brunt of his assault, but he still managed to swipe her. She grimaced.

He saw the look on her face, and felt slightly guilty. But if she was determined, and judging by the fighting spirit in her eyes, she was, he would continue his onslaught. He formed a fist, aimed at her face. He was caught slightly off guard when she caught it and attempted to counter. Instinct took over then, and he tripped her, planting his knee firmly into her stomach and knocking her to the floor. She hit the ground with a thud. He stood over her, pointing a building ki blast at her prone form.

"You need to increase your speed," he told her and let the ki dissipate before relaxing his stance and offering her his hand.

She hmphed at him. He pushed his hand away as she stood up without his help and then walked past him to the control panel of the GR and bumped it up a few notches. He felt the strain of 100 times Earth's normal gravity. She really was just like her mother. Just like him too. She wouldn't be outdone by any body. Not even her father. Sometimes he wished that Trunks would have as much stubbornness and desire to beat him as she did. She didn't say anything as she began doing pushups, wearing a look of determination on her face.

He had worked up a sweat. After giving Bra some constructive criticism on how to improve her ki blasts, she'd left. She never trained as long as he did, which suited him fine. After she left, he always increased the gravity level significantly. He sort of suspected that she left for his sake, so he could train under levels that pushed him, but he wasn't going to broach the subject with her.

He knew that dinnertime was nearing. Mrs. Brief's, who had unfortunately outlived her daughter, always made him dinner. He wasn't glad for it as had never learned to like the dim-witted woman's presence, but he did appreciate the meals. Bra would be there. She was always there anymore. After she'd graduated from school and moved back home because of Bulma's death, she barely left the house. Vegeta knew that she had been a partier. When she came home to visit, she always smelled faintly of strange males, cigarettes, and alcohol. It had never pleased Vegeta, but he accepted that she was her mother's daughter. He was silently grateful that she had seemed to stop ever since moving back home.

He showered and dressed before heading down to the dining area. He sensed his son before he saw him and was secretly quite glad for it. He could rub Bra's progress in Trunks' face.

"Father!" Trunks called enthusiastically.

"Son," Vegeta acknowledged gruffly.

Bra walked in the room. "Hey Trunks. How's everything at the company?"

He shrugged. "Same old, same old, I guess."

"Why don't you come visit more often?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"Sorry, Grandma," he said. "Things are kind of hectic. I don't really have time."

Vegeta sensed a lie, but didn't say anything. The boy had his reasons. No reason to push him too much. Vegeta was quite certain it had to do with Bulma's death, and that was a subject he wasn't bringing up before dinner. Or ever if he really had a choice.

"So I've been training a lot with Dad," Bra announced to her brother.

"Oh. You're still training with him? That's surprising."

"Did you think I was going to give up?"

"Well considering your track record as the 'whiner who always got kicked out', yes, I did."

She frowned at him. "I'm getting better. Tell him, Daddy. I almost managed to land a blow on him today."

Vegeta shrugged, not willing to tell the whole family how proud he was of her improvement. "She's improved, certainly."

But Bra saw through his gruff tone and noncommittal attitude. "See. Daddy even says I'm getting better," she said, smiling brightly.

"Well, yeah," Trunks said, eyeing the food that his grandmother was setting on the table. "But I actually did hit him while training. When I was five. And how old are you?"

"Can it," she said, snarling. "I didn't start as early as you did."

Vegeta smirked at their bickering. The fight in a Saiyan always had to come out. Even if the sparring was only through words.

"Let's eat, children," he announced, breaking up the spat before it turned into something that had to be settled outside. He wouldn't have minded seeing it, but he preferred to eat first.

They all sat down and ate, talking about current happenings in their lives and painfully avoiding talk of Bulma. "I bet I could take you down in a spar, big brother dearest," Bra said between bites.

"Until you can turn into a Super Saiyan, you don't have a chance," he responded.

"Oh, I don't need to be a Super Saiyan to beat you. You're so far out of practice, you'd probably end up Super Lay'in and sleeping on the floor while I pummeled your sorry ass."

Her tenacity amused Vegeta. Trunks was going to have to beat her if he ever wanted her to shut up. And he'd never hear the end of it if he went easy on her and lost.

"I think you should wait, Bra," Vegeta added meaningfully. "Wait a few more months, and you'll be able to beat him to a pulp without difficulty."

Trunks gaped at his father and Bra's face lit up in happiness. "Do you really think so, Daddy?" He nodded. "Am I going to be a Super Saiyan too? I've always wanted blond hair."

"Bra, you probably can't change because you're a girl," Trunks said. "There's never been a female Super Saiyan in all of history. Right, Dad?"

Vegeta shrugged noncommittally. "As far as anyone knows. It was just a legend. As far as I knew, I was the only person who should have been able to ascend, but that wasn't the truth. So who really knows who exactly can ascend. I wouldn't rule out the possibility either way."

It wasn't what either of them wanted to hear. Vegeta could read their disappointment. But he did hope she'd transform. The only female Super Saiyan in all of known history would be his daughter, the Saiyan Princess.

"Well," Trunks said, "even if you do become the first female to transform, I'd still be able to beat you. You're just a whiny little brat."

Bra, who had finished her meal, stood up and glared down at her brother. "You think so? Well, just watch me." She stormed out of the kitchen, leaving a stunned Trunks in her wake. Vegeta knew that the attitudes he held toward her would lead to his eventual defeat, but Vegeta imagined that getting beat by his sister would encourage him to return to training again, so he held his tongue.

"Well… must be her time of the month," Trunks said to no one in particular. Vegeta knew that to be a load of garbage. He had picked up the scent of menstruation from her about two weeks ago. His heightened senses were sometimes a bit of a pain when it came to this, but at least he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was not pregnant. Vegeta let the comment slide though. "I'll be headed home then," Trunks continued.

Vegeta nodded. The dense woman wished her grandson farewell, and he made his way home. Vegeta wasn't particularly tired, but since the only option other than heading to bed was staying and hanging out with his mother-in-law, he got up and walked to his room. He flipped on the TV, deciding on a technical show that Bulma had watched religiously. It was soothing and nostalgic. He wished once more that her death hadn't been natural. He could go and get the Dragon Balls and wish her back to life. She could be laying here beside him this instant, criticizing the "shoddy scientists" on the TV who were only making "cheap imitations" of something she could do "totally better." He smiled at her memory. He couldn't wish her back, but he knew she was saving a spot for him in heaven. She was ready for whenever he got there. No matter how long it took.

* * *

><p><em>Maybe I should explain this a bit more in depth than just my silly opening there… This is a ridiculous GotenXBra fanfic. It'll get there eventually, I promise.<br>_

_Vegeta is like 75 in this. He's still outwardly quite tough, but on the inside, I feel that he should be a little less callous now. _

_I am working on more chapters of this as we speak. And I'm a review whore. So you leave me nice reviews, I'll post more chapters. That's how it's going to work._


	2. Chapter 2

_It shouldn't take you long to figure out my approach to this story. Hopefully, I can keep working on this at a regular pace and finish it up soon. Don't expect too awful many chapters out of this. But I'll try my hardest to make them high quality, enjoyable chapters._

* * *

><p>Bra Briefs smiled seductively at the young man across the room. She brushed her cerulean hair off her shoulder with her hand, continuing to dance with her friends but sending him inviting looks. He'd be an idiot to turn down an invitation from her. She was easily the most attractive female in the entire bar, and she had saved the invite for the guy who was also the most attractive. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him stand up, and disengage himself from the group of males he was with.<p>

She giggled in spite of herself. It worked every time. She separated herself from the girls, and moved toward him, meeting him before he could make his way to her completely. She wasn't wasting any time, and began dancing with him immediately. She could feel him grinding against her, but she didn't mind. All she wanted from him was a quick one-time deal. Get in, get out, have a good laugh in the morning with the girls.

She would, of course, get her way. She always did. She ended up in the bed of every guy she set her eyes on. As he led her back to his place, she wondered what her father thought about her behavior. Surely, he didn't approve. He couldn't. He was over protective, and such a stick in the mud. She was grateful for her mother, who was probably the only reason he didn't rush to check on her every hour. She thought about her older brother, whose party reputation she had bested. She felt a little homesick, but maybe that was the alcohol thinking. Normally, she stayed as far away from her family as possible, and she liked it that way. They were all just so… uncool. Always focused on fighting and training and working on new experiments.

She returned to the present when the man, whose name she couldn't remember, opened the door to his apartment. She walked in behind him as he led her to his room. His roommates were sleeping there. Oh well. That didn't matter to her. But try as she might, she couldn't focus on what she was doing to him. What he did to her. It passed by in a blur. She attributed the lack of coherence to the alcohol she knew was flowing through her system. Her tolerance was extremely high due to her superior bloodlines, but she could overdo it every once in awhile.

He rolled off of her naked form, a stupid, happy look on his face. She only felt disappointment. He couldn't even last two minutes. He couldn't do enough to shake her out of her alcohol-induced reverie. She needed to up the stakes. Find a man who could make her feel something again.

She climbed out of bed and redressed. Silently she slipped out of the room, closed the door and made her way into the night, heading to her apartment. She checked her phone. Five missed calls from Trunks. Two from home. That was odd. They never called her that much.

She called Trunks back. He answered after the first ring.

"Bra. You need to come home," he told her, voice strained in urgency.

She felt panic well up inside of her. He seemed way more serious than usual. "What happened?" she asked.

"Mom's really sick. They don't think she's going to make it through the night."

"What? She was fine when I talked to her on the phone a couple days ago."

She heard the phone shifting hands, followed by her father saying, "Get home immediately."

She gulped. He never ordered her around like this. It really was serious.

She was slightly offended that he had hung up the phone with no parting words, but the graveness of the situation was not lost on her. She ran home as fast as she could, barefooted, carrying her heels in her hands. She busted through the door, past a roommate getting hot and heavy with a strange guy on the couch. She knew she had to hurry. She pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, dousing herself in perfume in an attempt to mask the smell of sex that she knew hung around her. Her father would pick it up instantly, and she didn't want to have him on her case about it.

A different roommate walked out of the bathroom. "Back already?" the girl asked.

"Yeah. I'm leaving though. Seems there's an emergency at home. I'll be back sometime." She turned on her heels, pulled on her sneakers at the door, grabbed the keys and headed to her car. She sped along, thoughts of her family drifting through her head. Mom just couldn't be dying. That was impossible. She'd pull through, Bra was sure of it.

She reached the house in record time. She first saw her grandma who was sitting at the kitchen table sobbing. Her grandfather wandered down the stairs, looking very grim. "It doesn't look good, Bra, dear," he told her. "Not good at all."

"Where is she?" Bra asked, panic starting to tighten in her chest.

"In the lab's infirmary," he said somberly. "We brought in a team of medical specialists. Your father hasn't left her side."

Bra raced back outside, heading out back to the entrance of the lab and running up the stairs as fast as she could. She smelled the infirmary before she saw it. The smell of medicines, disinfectant and unwashed bodies wafted through the air. She burst through the door, too stunned by the scene in front of her to say anything. Her father clutched her mother's hand, his gaze locked onto her sleeping face. Bra questioned whether she really was sleeping, but then saw her mother's chest rise feebly.

She had so many questions, but the heavy atmosphere in the room made it impossible to say anything. Her father hadn't even acknowledged her presence. Trunks nudged her and tilted his head to the door, before walking out of the room. Bra followed him. "We'll be back soon, Mama, Papa," she said meekly, almost whispering.

"Where have you been?" Trunks asked in a harsh whisper as soon as he thought they were out of earshot.

"Places," she said, not wanting to further elaborate.

"You should have taken a shower. I can still smell…" He changed his mind about what he was going to say thankfully. But she still couldn't escape the scathing look in his eyes. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"It was on silent. Listen, Trunks, I would have been here sooner if I'd known."

His facial features tightened. "If you weren't always out partying, you'd know a lot more about our family. Why are you always like this, Bra?"

His insults were getting under her skin. Defiantly she answered, "You partied plenty too, you know."

"But I never forgot my family," he said, locking his eyes with hers, daring her to retort. She dropped her gaze, looking away from him. He was right, after all. No need to argue over it, much as she would like to.

"What the matter with, Mom?" she asked quietly.

"They aren't sure. She wasn't feeling well earlier this evening, and then she just collapsed. They think her heart could be failing."

"Oh," Bra said somberly. "That's not good."

"I don't think she'll be alive by the end of today, Bra. We need to be here. With her. With Dad."

Bra nodded in agreement. Trunks turned around then, and headed back, conversation clearly finished. She followed behind him glumly. Mom was going to die. She hadn't really thought about it before, but she could feel tears welling up just thinking about it. She blinked them back. It wasn't over yet.

The day was long and grueling. She slept some off and on, too afraid to really sleep as she wanted whatever opportunity to see her mother she could possible get. Her opinion of her father increased dramatically. He never left Bulma's side. Not once. Not to sleep, not to eat, not to use the bathroom. With steely resolve, he stayed by her side, denying all of his bodies needs.

She had fallen asleep on her brother's shoulder. She looked up at him when she woke up, seeing that his eyes were closed, but she doubted he'd slept much more than she had. The sun was setting. The slow beeping of the heart rate monitor told her that her mom still lived. Her mother hadn't woken up. Not once since she'd been there. Terror filled her. What if she never had the chance to say goodbye?

She walked over to her mother, placing her hand over top of her father's. Vegeta looked up at her, not saying anything. He was tired. Bra could see the fatigue in his expression. She was about ready to say something to him, when his eyes shifted to Bulma's face. Her breathing had changed slightly, her eyes were fluttering. She was going to wake up.

She watched her mom slowly, laboriously open her eyes. "Everyone's here, huh?" she asked weakly. Trunks had moved to stand behind Bra's shoulder.

"Yeah. We're all here," Trunks replied.

Bulma smiled up at them. "I'll be seeing old King Yemma here soon. I've even decided where I want to take up residence." Her voice was airy as she struggled to speak every word.

"Quiet, Mom. You need to rest," Trunks told her.

She ignored him. "Trunks, take good care of Capsule Corp. You're the best man for the job. Bra, darling. I want you to find a nice, kind man to spend your life with. Find your purpose in life. It doesn't help you to wander aimlessly."

Bra cringed at her mother's instruction, but was not about to fight back about it. "Okay, Mom," she agreed softly. She hugged her mom, whispering, "I love you," into her ear. Trunks did the same when she moved away. Bulma then focused her attention on Vegeta.

"Vegeta." She got his full attention. "I want to fly. Just once more."

"Okay," he assented. Standing up and picking her up out of the bed, he carried her purposefully out of the room. When Trunks and Bra moved to follow him, he stopped them, telling them to stay put. The followed his direction, sitting down in the room and nervously waiting for their parents to return.

It seemed like forever, but after fifteen minutes Vegeta returned, carrying the limp form of Bulma, a pained expression on his face.

He placed her on the bed before sliding to his knees. Bra looked up to her older brother, hoping for an explanation from him, but was only met by the same look of confusion she knew had to be on her own face. The silence deepened when they realized their mother was no longer breathing. "Your mother has gone to the next world," Vegeta told them, his voice cracking. "She's waiting for us there." Bra realized her father was crying. Trunks had too, and both stood stunned, letting the news sink in. Tears pricked behind Bra's eyes. And she let them go, sobbing and wiping her face. She felt a hand take her elbow and lead her away. She didn't know where they were going, but it didn't matter. She was too upset to care.

She woke up the next morning, puffy eyed from crying. It still hadn't really sunk in that her mother was dead, but she resolved to never take her family for granted again. And they were going to need her now more than ever. She had to hold them all together. She would be strong. She would get stronger and live up to her mother's wishes and her father's expectations. She had fabulous bloodlines. She was going to take advantage of them and make something of herself. She felt sadness creeping upon her, and she allowed herself one final cry before facing the world.

* * *

><p><em>Bra's POV. Sad, tragedy chapter. And yeah. I'm jumping around the timeline. Get used to it.<em>

_Let me know what you think. And as with the chapter before, if you want more, you leave me nice reviews, you get more chapters :D_


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm sorry about taking so long for this chapter. I got… life'd. It snuck up on me and messed with everything, and I just didn't have time for fanfiction. And I was feeling bad because I was so close to being finished with this chapter before I went on that short-ish hiatus. _

_Anyway. This chapter kind of pushes the envelope of… the T rating I have. I really really want to keep this rated T. Because I know plenty of people don't read stories that have an M rating. And I don't want to scare away people because I can't make myself not write smut. I'm rambling. Let me know if you think I've gone too far into sexual. I can bump up the rating. If you guys tell me to bump the rating up to M, expect smuttiness in the future. Not like… a whole story of smut. But maybe a chapter. I wasn't going to include it, but if you say to up the rating, it'll be there._

* * *

><p>"Hey bro," Goten called as he opened the door.<p>

Trunks was reclining on the couch, looking as though he'd been asleep. He gave his friend a small salute from his position on the couch.

"I thought we could go out tonight," Goten said casually. "I thought maybe hitting up on some ladies might help you feel a little better."

Goten had seen how his whole family was dealing with the loss of its most central member. By avoiding it. He knew it wasn't really the best way to get over something, but he wasn't going to push the issue. And getting Trunks wasted was usually an entertaining way to spend his evening.

Trunks smiled. "We could," he agreed. "But it's a little early for that. Don't want to be hitting the scene early. We'll look desperate."

"How about we go to your place and train then?" Goten suggested casually. He knew Trunks hadn't even set foot in the GR since his mother's death.

"I'll pass. But you can go on over if you want. I'm sure my dad would mind having a real sparring partner."

"Huh?" Goten asked, slightly confused.

"Oh. Bra has been training with him. I'm sure he has to hold back on her. The little whiner that she is would never handle real training with him."

Goten chuckled. He did remember how much she whined from the couple of times he'd been training in the GR at the same time as her.

"Beats hanging around here, I guess. Mind if I take your car?"

Trunks opened an eye at him. "Are you seriously asking that? Your dad taught you the instant transmission technique, and you're asking if you can _drive my car_ over? Yes, I mind."

"You're no fun."

"Nope. Now get out of my place."

Goten laughed. "Fine. I'll be back at like 9 or so. And you'd better not be hogging up the shower. I'm going to need it after getting my ass served to me courtesy of your father."

Trunks smiled lazily at that and his friend disappeared.

Materializing in the kitchen of the Brief's house, he made to grab a drink from the fridge. He sensed Vegeta closing in on him. "What are you doing here?" the older man asked.

"Oh not much. Your son suggested I come over and train with you for a little."

"Hmm…" Vegeta said, pondering the offer. "I think we should see if you're up to the challenge." Vegeta still looked young. Maybe not quite as young as his father, but he had certainly retained his youth. He walked away without a word, clearly expecting Goten to follow him, which he did without comment. Vegeta lead him to the GR, where he spoke through the intercom system asking someone inside to shut the machine down because they had a visitor. The door opened and Goten saw Bra for the first time in a long time, since the funeral in fact. She was not at all how he remembered her. Physically, she looked about the same. Her hair was a bit darker and her body seemed more muscled. There was just something about her aura that was different though. Demanded more respect than she had as a teenager.

"You have a new sparring partner," Vegeta announced.

Bra smiled. "Cool. I've gotten tired of getting beaten by you every day."

Her eyes met his and he couldn't figure out why exactly his heart was pounding the way it was. Him? Nervous around a girl? He'd gotten past that stage years ago.

"Don't you think I'm a little too strong for her?" Goten asked Vegeta, not taking his eyes off her.

"Nonsense, boy," Vegeta rebutted. "You should watch yourself."

Bra sneered at him. "I won't lose to anyone. Not ever."

Goten shook his head. And she'd just said that she was tired of her father beating her. She sure was arrogant.

She attacked him before he really had a chance to prepare. Stepping out of the path of her onslaught, he focused on the task at hand. She was fast. A lot faster than he'd been anticipating. He had thought that a simple quick sparring session was all that was in store when he'd been told he'd be up against Bra first. He guessed he was wrong. She was taking her training seriously, it seemed.

"You're better than I expected," Goten complimented her, assuming a fighting stance. He decided he'd just let her attack and do a little work on his defensive skills.

She ignored his words, opting to fight in return. She rushed him again, he stepped to the side and was surprised when he felt her foot landing on his side. She'd moved so fast he hadn't seen to adjust to her. He was definitely going to have to concentrate hard on this spar or it wouldn't be Vegeta beating on him.

He took a breath. He'd fought harder opponents than Trunks's little sister. He wasn't about to lose to her. She'd landed a blow. Nothing major. He squared himself up, still resolved to only defend.

She sneered at him. "Is that all you've got?"

"Just getting warmed up," he said casually, corners of his mouth turning up in a half smile. Her fire sure was amusing.

He watched her move with almost unfathomable speed to a position behind him, and he turned just in time to block her fist with his forearm. She planted her feet on the ground and drove the other fist up towards his jaw. He stepped back, and he had to fly away when her foot tried to sweep his feet out from under him. Looking down at her he could see the tops of her breasts peeking out from underneath her revealing exercise shirt. He enjoyed the sight, though in the back of his mind he reminded himself that she was Trunks's younger sister and, therefore, off limits.

She launched herself at his flying form, and he had to bring his concentration back to less pleasant things, like the fact that she pretty much had him on the run. He was never going to get the upper hand if he kept letting her attack him. She was good, but not quite at his level. But if he didn't start attacking her back soon, she'd probably knock him around enough to have a chance at taking him down. And he wasn't about to cause his own defeat.

He charged a ki blast, his own version of the Kamehameha. He let it fly at her, expecting her to simply dodge out of the way. He was surprised then, when she blasted it with her own ki, neutralizing his attack with her own, smirk on her face as she continued on her path towards him, undeterred.

He frowned. He wasn't really getting anywhere here. But he definitely didn't want to transform to Super Saiyan to fight her. It wouldn't be fair if she couldn't also fight him in an ascended form. So instead, he reached inside himself and released his power. It flowed through him, surging to his muscles making him stronger than he had been previously.

He watched her eyes flicker in understanding. She knew what he'd just done, but she kept coming towards him, not bothering to increase her power. He was puzzled but he had to move as she continued toward him. She was charging her own blast, energy visibly forming in her hand. But she was underestimating him now, and he wasn't going to just let her attack anymore.

Goten waited for her, the blast she was obviously intending to drive into him at point blank range still building in her hand. As she thrust the energy blast toward him, he sidestepped, grabbing her arm as he did so and twisting it behind her. The pain of it caused her to lose concentration, and the blast dissipated. Not releasing his grip, he reached around and grabbed her other arm, pulling it behind her. Goten heard the guttural growl rumble deep in her throat. She blue aura surrounded her as she powered up, and before he had a chance to react, she'd arched her back into his chest and flipped, taking him along with her and when she stopped, inertia flung him off of her. Goten focused hard on stopping himself and when he did, he launched himself at her.

His quick recovery caught her off guard, and he barreled into her, knocking her back. She snarled at him and made to escape, but he held her in place, letting the force of his charge carry them to the floor. He pinned her to the floor, sitting firmly on her stomach to keep her down. He looked down on her and the position he was in brought up the slightly uncomfortable instinct to dominate her. He shook his head to clear the sexual thoughts creeping across his mind. "I win," he told her.

"Good," she sneered. "Now get off."

Oh how her rebellious attitude made him want to hold her down there until she submitted to him. But he reasoned that it was only his more animalistic Saiyan instincts telling him to do so. And it was still Trunks's sister. And as alluring as she was, he wouldn't do that to his buddy. But her skin was so soft. And her scent was starting to become intoxicating.

He pulled himself off of her. Goten needed to separate himself before he started obsessing.

As she stood up, he complimented her, "You've definitely gotten good. I can't believe you're the same little girl who couldn't keep up with us all those years ago."

She scowled. Begrudgingly, she said, "Thanks."

Goten wanted to laugh at her. She'd become a lot more like her father than he had remembered her, but considering that neither Bra nor Vegeta was likely to find it as amusing as he did, he kept the laugh to himself.

"Did you still want to train with me?" Vegeta asked.

Goten had forgotten the presence of the older Saiyan. He'd been so focused on Bra. He glanced at the time. He had time for a short spar, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to. All he really wanted to do was take a cold shower and head out somewhere to wipe all thoughts of Bra from his head. "I think I'll pass. Trunks and I have plans, so I should probably get back."

Vegeta snorted, "You two are as soft as ever."

Goten laughed, "I guess so." He turned to walk out the door, saying over his shoulder, "Thanks for letting me spar with you, Bra."

He managed to hear her say, "Yeah, come train with me again sometime," before he took to the sky. Her invitation was welcome, but he knew he couldn't take her up on it. It would be too tempting to throw her to the ground again. Only he wouldn't climb off at her request, and he would do so many other things to her. Just the thought of it had his blood rushing lower. He needed to shake these thoughts. So she was more appealing to him that he had remembered her being. Maybe it was in Saiyan blood to desire a fighter for a mate. Maybe that was why both he and Trunks had remained unattached thus far. The further away he got from the Briefs' residence the more his logic kicked in, and Goten was able to forget about Bra.

He landed on the deck of Trunks's apartment. He slid open the door and found that Trunks had not left his position on the couch. "Back already," Trunks stated. "Did Dad beat you that fast?"

Goten winced slightly at that. "I… well, I sparred with Bra, actually. Won, of course. But she was better than I expected."

"Too much of a nice guy to just blast her away right from the get go, huh?"

"Not much in the way of training, for her or me, if I just go for the win right at the beginning," Goten answered with a smile.

"Shower is all yours. I haven't gotten up yet," Trunks said, changing the subject.

"Clearly."

Goten took his time in the shower, cleaning off built up grime and letting the cold water rinse away all thoughts of Bra. He dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he headed out of the bathroom into the living area. He kept extra clothes in a bag at Trunks' place, so he went to grab them from the closet. Trunks got up from the couch then, announcing that he was going to take a shower then. Goten got dressed, sat down on the couch and watched the TV while waiting for Trunks to get ready for their evening out.

* * *

><p>The two left, making their way to one of their favorite night-clubs. With girls grinding on him and a few shots down, Goten found it easy to forget that Bra had ever be occupying his thoughts. That was, until he was following a girl into her apartment, and getting frisky. Her coy smile reminded him of how Bra had looked at him in challenge. Having her undress herself made him wish that Bra was the one removing her clothes for him. The ease with which he forced the stranger onto the bed wasn't enough of a challenge. He didn't like it. He didn't want her. He bailed on her then, leaving her high and dry.<p>

Back in Trunk's apartment, he visited the shower again. Only this time it wasn't cold, and he didn't feel an ounce of guilt for the thoughts running rampant in his head as he relieved the tension pulsing through his body.

-chapter end-

* * *

><p><em>I don't have the next chapter even started. So it may take a little while for an update. I've got chapter 6 pretty much finished. Yes. I'm weird and jumping around as inspiration strikes. But hopefully it will not be months of waiting. Thanks for reading. Leave a review if you wish. It'll only increase your chances of getting more chapters sooner.<em>


End file.
